Is it College Yet? was created in lieu of a truncated, six-episode sixth season of the show, and it’s pretty obvious. There’s a ton of resolution and character development crammed into the 75-minute runtime, and it works better as a farewell kiss to longtime series fans than a standalone movie, since it’s essentially three episodes strung together. But what a farewell kiss it is: Quinn grows up quickly after dealing with an alcoholic coworker, Ms. Barch springs wedding plans on Mr O’Neill, Daria and Jane trudge through the college admissions process, the Fashion Club disbands and Daria grapples with her wilting relationship with her boyfriend Tom.
It’s not so much that I enjoy being reminded of my high school years. Like the show’s titular heroine (and maybe like you, I’m willing to bet), high school was a time of my life that I’m very content to forget, or at least do as little thinking about as possible. I was awkward, unmotivated, surly and sarcastic—a miserable and alienated teenager who wouldn’t have been out of place with the rest of the Lawndale crew. And so, Is It College Yet? forced me to think about high school for the first time in quite a while. Sure, it’s great for me that I have Daria as an ex-post-facto justification for my adolescent cynicism and burning desire to escape my hometown, but that doesn’t make me any happier. And it doesn’t erase the sneaking suspicion that I totally wasted my time in high school.
But I don’t think ignorance is bliss, either. Would I have been happier if I hadn’t been cognizant of the ridiculous farce that is the “artificial society” (as Daria put it) of high school? If I had been less critical of popularity contests, ostentatious displays of status and the generally horrible way teenagers treat each other? Which is to say nothing of the fact that our schools are more and more becoming institutions that train students to be obedient problem-solvers, rather than critical thinkers.
Daria flew in the face of the American Dream. In a decade possessed by irrational exuberance and convictions of our own exceptionalism, it was a show that dared to ask if that’s what we really wanted, if it was making us happy. And for so many people who grew up in that era, Daria was one of the few sane voices reminding us that it really is OK to be different. (There’s palpable irony to it being MTV’s flagship show at the time, especially when that station is becoming increasingly devoted to cultural homogeneity and sameness of opinion.)
So in the end, Daria left me with more questions than answers, and more unfinished thoughts than satisfying, neatly-wrapped conclusions. “Here’s your weird, all-encompassing consumer culture,” the show seems to be saying. “And here’s how you’ll feel when you actually think about it.” Which is exactly why it’s such a spectacular TV series. That and the Splendora song, of course.